The Nexus Mirror

by Noah Michael

  “Get back!” The conversation was cut short as two blasts from Raiden’s weapon were fired across the room towards the chamber entrance. The entrance was flooded with full-sized spiders. They’d managed to rebuild the bridge and were now crawling all around.

  “Run, Sarah! I will hold them off as long as I can,” Raiden shouted, firing at the spiders.

  “Sarah,” Grith said calmly, “the kaza. Play the frequency the queen spider had been emitting. If you do, they will think you’re the queen.” Sarah played the notes as she remembered them. As she did, the spiders’ movements changed. They began to walk in circles, seemingly confused, until they stopped completely, turning their attention towards Sarah. Sarah looked at Grith. “Keep playing.”

  Sarah continued. Slowly, the spiders moved back towards the chamber entrance. By the time the final spider exited the chamber, Sarah’s face was turning red from lack of oxygen.

  “Not bad, child. You play well.”

  “And who are you?” Raiden looked suspiciously towards Grith.

  “My name is Peter. I have been captive in the mirror for a very long time.”

  “Why did you enter?”

  “For a mission long abandoned. The only wish I have now is to leave this cursed place. And you are?”

  “My name is Raiden.”

  “From which tribe do you hail? And why are you here?”

  “I’m from the most powerful tribe of all, and why I am here is none of your business.”

  “I accept that you don’t trust me. It is hard to trust anything down here. Yet that will have to change. If you wish to leave this place alive, you will need my help.”

  Raiden looked down at Sarah, and then back towards Grith. “We don’t need you.”

  “Is that so? Then tell me, how will you leave these chambers?”

  Raiden looked around the room, seeing nothing. “Fine, we will travel with you. But if you try anything...”

  “The message is clear. Now let us take leave of this cursed chamber.” Grith walked over to where the queen spider’s massive pincers lay shut on the floor, moving his hand in between them towards a small, circular indentation on the inner side of each pincer. He pushed down on the circle, causing it to move inwards. When he repeated the action on the other opposite pincer, the pincers began to glow. Grith took a step back. The ground between the pincers began to collapse, revealing a circular, black portal on the ground.

  “After you,” Grith said.

  “I’m not jumping through there before you.”

  “Very well. Do not take long or it will close.” Grith disappeared beneath the floor.

  Once Grith left, Raiden turned to Sarah. “That man...he’s one of your kind, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I thought you were the only one left?”

  “So did I...”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  Sarah hesitated. She didn’t want to arouse Raiden’s suspicions by telling him about Grith. She wanted to finish talking to him first. For all she knew, maybe he could tell her who her parents were and where she came from. Maybe he could tell her who gave her the kaza. She felt bad lying to him, as he was her friend, but this was something she had to do. “Just his name. Nothing important.”

  Raiden nodded, not doubting her for a moment. He walked over to the pincers, turning to look at Sarah. “See you on the other side.”

  Raiden jumped over the pincers and into the circle, disappearing through the portal. Sarah stepped forward, peering down into the blackness.

  “Where will it take me this time?” She wondered nervously.

  Home. Please, take me home.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Brink of War

  The Shadow Kingdom

  July 23

  8:00 a.m.

  “I summoned you all here today to address the greatest threat our people have ever faced. Roko may be planning an invasion. He is desperate and angry, and will attack us with every drone, soldier, and weapon at his disposal. Defeat is not an option.”

  Arias stood at the head of the rectangular, wooden table in the battle room. A large map of the area was spread across the surface. Seated around him were the members of the Chief’s guard, excluding Bastion, who was set guarding the mirror and the treasury. With them were with many of the tribe’s highest-ranking warriors and military strategists, including Suria, whose bandages were hidden beneath his armor. He had refused to be bedridden, insisting on attending the conference. Beneath his face was hidden a burning desire for a fight, a chance to regain his dignity. Also in the room, guarding the entrance, was Atara.

  “The last time Roko attacked, he exposed our vulnerability. This time, we are better prepared. Our villages have been reinforced and sentries have been stationed around our grounds. Still, he can come in from any or all sides of the mountain range. If the mountaintops are taken, our situation immediately deteriorates. He would have us trapped within the valley. We must prepare our troops for an invasion that may come at any moment and consider how Roko’s air force may be countered. Montis, as chief defender of the mountains for more than twenty years, you will be the first to speak.”

  Montis stood up. He was a burly, bearded man, his feet and hands toughened by years in the rocky mountains. “The mountains are unconquerable by military maneuver. Our defenses are too strong on all sides. It would take a very great amount to overrun us.”

  “Roko has a very great amount. We cannot afford military arrogance,” Gore said. “Montis is underestimating the situation.”

  “My ancestors have guarded these mountains as long as our tribe has lived here.” Montis roared back. “Never have the mountains been conquered, and I intend to maintain that tradition!”

  Arias raised his hand for quiet. “If we reinforce the mountaintops with two-thirds of our army, how long can we hold off Roko’s entire force, including his air force?”

  “How many soldiers do we speak of?”

  “I would put it at around one-thousand well trained Enlai, from of all tribes, two-hundred thousand battle drones, twenty-thousand medic and repair drones, one-hundred self-operating battery tanks, and thousands of wasp drones in the air.”

  Montis’s face turned white. “I...I did not understand the force he commands. I give us three days before being overrun.” The room filled with a grave silence.

  “Three days...” Arias repeated softly, his hand turning to a fist. “Suria, if the mountains fell, how long would it take for the school to fall with them?”

  Suria hesitated. “Our last warrior would perish within twenty-four hours.”

  “So, the initial assessment predicts our defeat within four days?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Unless...” Gore said, catching everyone’s attention “Unless we use the forbidden weaponry.”

  “No one has access other than the Chief himself,” another advisor said.

  “The Chief has granted me access to the weapons. I intend on using them if war is to occur. They are our only hope. Montis, do your men know how to use them?”

  “They have been trained, as is tradition, for the occasion.”

  “Good. Most of them will be stationed on the mountaintops and the valley entrance. The remainder will be set up around the school itself to combat any wasps which manage to break past the mountains. With the weapons, do you believe we stand a chance?”

  Montis took a second to think. “Victory would still require a miracle.”

  “What fun is a battle without a miracle? I will go now to unlock the weapons. Suria and Montis, meet me in the treasury chamber.”

  “Yes, Arias.”

  Arias stood up from the table, walking towards the door. As he opened the door, he turned to Atara. “Would you like to come with me? I’m in dire need of a guard,” he teased.

  “Well then what choice do I have?” Atara smirked, stepping out the door with him.

  They were met with two, concerned-looking warriors. “Arias, there
is a problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “The boy, Raja. He is gone. In his room we found two warriors, one injured, one dead. We have searched the entire grounds. He is gone.”

  Arias’s expression turned to ice. “For all we know, he could be joining the enemy. Send trackers, two or three men. I want him found and killed immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guards hurried off in one direction, while Arias walked towards the staircase, Atara by his side.

  “Who’s Raja?”

  “Remember the man who challenged Yuran to a duel?”

  “Yes. He was sentenced to live.”

  Arias nodded. “Yuran took him under his wing, offered him a second chance. But it seems he has once again chosen betrayal.” The two of them reached the staircase and walked down towards the treasury. Arias looked at Atara. “My baby sister, carrying a sword...”

  Atara laughed. “Pretty soon I will have surpassed your own skill.”

  “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “You skipped all the training, going straight to the Chief’s guard. I am actually working myself up, going from the bottom up, training with the best mentor in the army.”

  “Father was a better mentor than Suria.”

  Atara hesitated to continue the conversation, knowing how much her father had meant to Arias. She had very little memory of him, as he had died when she was a baby. Atara lowered her voice. “Can you tell me about Father?”

  “I’ve already told you everything.”

  “I know...it is just that every time you say it, I feel as if I can see him, as if I can meet him again. It fills the holes in my memory.”

  “He was a brave man,” Arias started, as he had before, “tall and strong. His long, braided hair hung over his shoulder and flowed down to his chest, which beat with might and fortitude. His heart was gold, his smile comforting, his eyes reassuring. I can still see him, standing outside with mother, holding you in his loving arms, trying to get you to laugh. Mother would look on and smile. Each time he held you, you would stop crying.”

  Arias looked at Atara, who seemed very focused, drawing a picture of their father in her imagination. As he looked at her, his heart began to tremble. He stopped walking.

  “Before he set off to the war, Father made me promise something.” Atara turned to him. “I promised him that I would never let you come to harm. I promised him I would always protect you.”

  Atara’s expression turned somber. “Arias...”

  “Atara, there is a war brewing. The greatest our people have ever before faced. Many people will die. I may die.”

  “Arias do not say such-”

  “Atara, listen to me.” Arias took her hands. “I do not know if I can lead this people into war knowing that you are among the ranks awaiting the fields of slaughter.”

  “Arias, that’s not fair,” Atara pleaded. “You made good to your promise, you’ve protected me all my life. I’m no longer a child. I’m a warrior now. I have worked hard for that privilege. You cannot keep me off the battlefield. You cannot keep me from fighting beside my brothers.”

  “I can, and I will,” Arias said stubbornly. “I must. There is no more to be discussed.”

  Atara shook her head defiantly and dropped his hands.

  “Atara, wait-”

  She turned around and walked away.

  He wanted nothing more than to go after her, but now was not a time for distractions. He reached the treasury room, where Bastion stood guard along with fifteen other warriors.

  “Bastion. Come with me into the treasury. I may require your assistance.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  Arias looked to the left side of the room, where the entrance to the mirror remained open. He walked over to the opposite wall and placed his hand upon it. He leaned in towards the wall, nearly pressing his lips against it. “Mortem nocte,” he whispered.

  The wall shook. Arias took a step back as the wall moved forward out of its place, opening two passages, one at each end of the wall. “Bastion, we are about to behold a power kept hidden by our ancestors for hundreds of years.”

  Bastion chuckled, following Arias through the passageway, his eyes bright with excitement. As they walked down the narrow path, the light dimmed. Stepping into a pitch-black, large chamber. Arias clapped, and the ceiling filled with light. Bastion looked around him, eyes wide in awe. “Well I’ll be damned...”

  ◆◆◆

  “Fire!” A storm of arrows pierced the sky, raining down upon the ground below. Upon impact, the ground blew up in a pillar of black dust and leveled the ground a few feet.

  “These are incredible!” Montis exclaimed, turning towards Arias, who was busy inspecting one of the war machines made up of ten crossbow branches armed with three arrows apiece. The arrows reloaded automatically into place after each shot. Once fired, a mysterious black liquid leaked from within the arrow to its tip and spread itself across any surface it came into contact with, disintegrating its victim in a cloud of black dust. “But no wonder they were outlawed,” Montis said. “Deadliest weapons I’ve ever seen.”

  “They will be effective on Roko’s robots,” Arias responded.

  “Let’s hope so.” The air was hot, the sun blaring. Arias and Montis stood on the mountaintop, surveying the surrounding area. The flattened, sandy mountaintops were colored black by endless swarms of warriors. All reserves had been called to action, anyone fit to fight. A scouting unit was positioned at the highest point on each mountain, overlooking the endless array of desert and sand dunes beyond. Their eyes were trained to notice even the slightest change in color or movement from miles away.

  Arias stood on the lowest mountaintop in the range, the most likely point of invasion. A third of all the troops had been deployed there, as well as dozens of arrow launchers. Warriors and their commanders trained all around. Shouts of command echoed throughout the mountaintops as warriors conducted their pre-war preparations.

  The mountain was as fortified as it was going to be, and the valley was secure. It was time to address the villagers. Hundreds of warriors saluted him as he passed. When he reached the school, the crowd moved aside to let him pass onto the platform. He looked out at his people. Their faces were filled with fear. The villagers did not know what awaited them.

  Worried mothers held their babies tightly in their arms. Elderly village folk stood solemnly with their canes, many of them having already experienced the pains of war. The young children wondered if and when they would see their fathers again. The newly-wed wives wondered if they will ever have the chance to start the family they had been dreaming of. They all awaited their fates.

  And he would be the one to decide it.

  “My dear villagers,” he addressed the nervous crowd, “for the first time in many years, we are under threat of war. It is customary for our people to applaud the sound of war, to excite at the sound of clashing swords.

  This time is different. This time, the stakes are not honor, but rather life and death. This is a fight for the existence of our people, and defeat is not an option. The main battle will be fought on the front lines by your brothers, sons, and husbands.

  However, that is only part of the war. A second battle shall be fought in the villages, in the hearts of each and every one of you. It is of your responsibility to remain strong, to not give in. Do not allow the enemy to wear you out. Go out to your villages and build your shelters, fortify your homes, collect food and drink. Prepare for a trial like none you have ever faced. We shall face it together.”

  Arias finished speaking. He turned to leave the platform when a young woman stood up from the crowd, a child in her arms. “Where is the Chief?”

  Arias hesitated. “The Chief is not with us at this time. He is out searching for something crucial to our victory.”

  “He has stayed with us all these years of peace, and he flees in time of war!? What kind of Chief is he!? We need him now!”

  “He will be retur
ning any day now.”

  “Any day now? You said the war may break out any day now!” an old man shouted.

  “The son of a coward is himself a coward!” Another man called out.

  “How dare you speak of your Chief in such terms!?” Arias roared, “Go back to your villages with confidence, for your Chief has not, nor ever shall abandon you!”

  Arias stormed angrily off the stage.

  ◆◆◆

  Arias walked down the lines, making sure that all preparations were in place. He shouted commands to his troops, struggling to be heard over the raging winds of the desert sandstorm. The day had turned to night, the blackened sky filled with raging clouds of dust.

  “Arias!” Montis pushed past the winds towards him. “The crossbows will be useless in these winds,” Montis said bitterly. “If we are attacked tonight, we’ll have to allow the enemy to advance further and shoot at its front ranks.”

  The mountains were filled with thousands of Shadow warriors, fully armored and organized into their regiments. Large fires burned atop all the mountains, providing heat for repairing weapons and keeping warm. Shadows scurried back and forth, carrying logs and blocks to build temporary shelters for the storm. Shouts of command echoed above the wind. The village below was quiet, not a single light to be seen, as the villagers entered their underground shelters. Arias looked across the mountain towards the valley of Shadows where Atara was stationed. He wished he could have seen her once more after their last conversation.

  “Arias!” It was Suria. That he was on the mountain and not in the valley was a grave sign. “Our sentries have reported back to the valley. The enemy will arrive within the hour.”

  Arias’s hands clenched to fists. “What are their numbers?”

  “They couldn’t see the army.”

  “Then how do they know they are approaching?”

  “The sandstorm...it is not of natural causes. The skies are filled with wasps.”

  Arias took a deep breath. “Go back to the valley. Prepare the commanders.”

  “I will.” Suria paused a moment before leaving, “I will watch over her. Do not worry.”